A tragedy of errors

I and Kotsko convened at the Exchequer around 6, where we passed the time in waiting for Weiner (pron. "whiner").  He did not appear, but at some point ogged parachuted in, narrowly escaping being crushed beneath a green line train (his chute may still be there).  The Exchequer was closed in honor of its mother, and, after a wait of 40 minutes failed to produce any long hard Weiners, we decamped and headed north, eventually falling upon a Chipotle and taking it by storm.  Then I went to the MCA but the show was sold out and I had, foolishly, failed to procure tickets in advance.  So I headed home a broken man, head full of broken ideas.

I did, however, see a dude wearing an ugly WHPK shirt, which I assume from its design he purchased last night at the EKG/Books concert.

(Confidential to ogged: don't wear pleated pants.)

Comments

[ogged]

You have a problem with pleated pants?

[profgrrrrl]

Oh, ogged. Am I going to have to take you clothes shopping on our date?

[ben wolfson]

They don't look good on thin guys.

[ogged]

Trust me, unpleated pants look worse. Other than jeans and suits, butless me has a very hard time finding decent-fitting pants.

[profgrrrrl]

Y'know, they do butt implants these days ... :)

[ogged]

The more I think about this, the more absurd it is that Ben Wolfson is giving me advice about how to dress.

[ben wolfson]

Uh, which one of us wears the same thing day in and out?

[Ralph Luker]

I cannot believe that Wolfson begins a sentence "I and Kotsko ...." It's red ink for you, Ben!

[profgrrrrl]

Ben, did you check to make sure he was wearing the superhero underwear?

[ben wolfson]

By the time the pants came off, I had other things on my mind.

[bitchphd]

Profgrrrrl and I are in agreement: pleated pants = bad.

[ben wolfson]

See?

[bitchphd]

Also, Matt: you stood them up? Lame. You better be there when I'm in town.

[profgrrrrl]

Y'know, more I think about it (and why am I thinking about it?) wouldn't true superhero underwear give the wearer a superhero-worthy butt, invalidating the "I need pleats" argument?

[apostropher]

Depands on the superhero, profgrrrrl.

[apostropher]

e

[ben wolfson]

It's red ink for you, Ben!

I fall upon the thorns of grammar! I bleed!

[ogged]

which one of us wears the same thing day in and out?

And you see what happens when I don't. Anyway, true superheroes don't *need* butts.

[LizardBreath]

In Japan (probably here too, but I've never noticed it) you can buy underwear with foam pads for butt-enhancement. Might make your pants fit better, if you can get over the trauma of wearing undies with Hello Kitty on them.

[Matt Weiner]

Dude, remember when I sent you guys that e-mail reading (I quote, with redactions):

OK, I'm going offline soon, and out of town for the weekend. I will assume that we are on for the Exchequer (228 N Wabash) at 6 pm Sunday. If something comes up, my phone is xxx-xxx-xxxx.

That was so someone could CALL ME in case something went screwy with the plans, like the restaurant being closed.

Also, since I don't know my way around Chicago, would've been nice if someone had pointed out that
a) the bridge on Wabash was closed
and
b) I had the address wrong (part of the delay was occasioned by my pulling up at 228 N Wabash and discovering that there was no building at that address--then I had to go to a bit of trouble to get a white pages, since I didn't have anyone's phone number--then I called the Exchequer so they could page you guys, and I could tell you I was running late--but of course the Exchequer didn't answer the phone because it was closed).

Also, I don't think I was 40 minutes late--though I admit it was close--but part of the delay was also cause by the fact that I forgot my cell phone when I started for my car, and on my way back to get it--so, you know, someone could CALL ME in case we had trouble getting contact--I was caught in an absurdist movie. Perhaps I will blog this back home.

Still, I must defend myself from B's accusation. If you have my phone number and I don't have yours, it's on you to get in touch with me. If anyone was stood up, it was I.

[ben wolfson]

Oh noes! Sorry! Somehow Adam and I both overlooked that you had the address wrong. And that you had provided a phone number. Uh, we suck.

[Matt Weiner]

Ah, thank you. That was the reaction I was looking for.

I did anyway make the concert (the people at the office totally lied about how long it was, but I'm not going to complain that I got more music than planned--since I did make it home w/o crashing and awake in time to get in for my pre-class blogging). Some of my trouble getting to the concert was my fault (when I looked up the MCA's address, somehow I decided that "Chicago Ave" meant "Illinois Ave"). Some was the fault of a malevolent God (screwy and inexplicable behavior of the vending machine in a parking lot). Some was my fault again (it really is at least partly my fault that I had the address wrong). Also, I was late, enough that I probably wouldn't have been able to eat dinner even if the restaurant had been open--the MCA was farther away than I'd expected. So, there were faults on both sides.

(But I'm still going to stick to the position that there were more on yours, for reasons of pure passive aggression if for no others.)

Anyway, there are some cool-looking shows in June... are you too traumatized to try repeating the experiment? Things may be less hectic on a day that I don't begin in New Jersey.

[ben wolfson]

More on mine and Kotsko's

What shows in June?

[Matt Weiner]

Thinking of 'yours' as 'votre' rather than 'ton', si je peux te tutoyer--if we counted Kotsko as having his own side, there would've been more than two sides.

I vaguely remember Paul Rutherford.

[Matt Weiner]

Though I also have to confess a disposition to blame you rather than Kotsko for everything, for no good reason.